


Hetalia One-Shots

by Multi_Fandom_Lover



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P Hetalia, F/F, F/M, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 18:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18628978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multi_Fandom_Lover/pseuds/Multi_Fandom_Lover
Summary: 2p! Hetalia1p! HetaliaNekotaliaDark! Hetalia2p! Nyo! HetaliaNyo! HetaliaHuman! Hetalia AUAnd more!What is this about? Like the title says, I shall also be taking requests from you guys!





	1. What Do I Look Like? [America x Reader]

You've been born with a superpower. It wasn't superhuman strength or mind reading powers, no, you were given the power to be beautiful in everyone's eyes. Only you could see what you truly looked like, but everyone else saw something different. They saw their idea of beauty. So, you've developed a habit of asking people what you looked like.

Of course, everyone had different answers. Sometimes you were a blonde woman with green eyes, to others you were a dark-haired, freckled girl, the weather reporter on Channel 6, and one time, a burrito from a guy who smelled of liquor and marijuana. This fact didn't bother you that often, but every now and then you'd look in the mirror and feel disappointed at yourself. It was silly to focus on appearances, but every now and then you'd wish to hear someone describe you. Even your own parents weren't able to describe how you really looked like.

Well, you thought you'd get used to it, but you never did. Handling the confusion was more of a hassle, truthfully, but you were able to spew out explanations with incredibly great ease, thanks to the years of experience.

Currently, you were at school with your friend, eating lunch at your usual spot in the cafeteria. The place was filled with the chatter of other students. The trending topic at the moment was the basketball game that was going to happen after school. You weren't a big fan of basketball, or sports in general, but you were going to watch the game anyway. It was practically required by the school. You couldn't remember your principal's speech, but they did say something about moral support and school spirit, and blah blah blah.

"I'm so jealous! I wish I had your eyes!" (your friend's name) gushed.

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, but your eyes are pretty, too!"

(Your friend's name) frowned. "Black is such a boring color, though. I'd like it more if I had green eyes!"

"Green eyes, huh? Hey, what do I look like again?" you asked, a part of you hoping that she'd be able to guess what you looked like. Even if it was just the color of your hair.

She looked at you oddly. You couldn't blame her. You asked her so often, it was starting to get weird. It was a habit you couldn't help; it was something you asked everyone. Even your mailman was interrogated. Heck, you tried to ask a parrot once. But that's a story for another day.

She answered her usual reply: soft curly red hair with bright green eyes, and high cheekbones (which were absolutely to die for, according to her.

You replied with a nod and another tight smile. "Thanks, (your friend's name)."

"Anyway, let's talk about the game. How are we going to skip that? I'd sleep through it if I could, but I'm pretty sure there'd be a lot of shouting. So, are we gonna talk our way our, or do a sneaky escape? I'm thinking secret spy style!" (your friend's name) suggested with a voice so loud almost everyone could hear your plan.

You thought both options were a hassle. "Let's just watch the game. Isn't James going to play?"

She folded her arms and frowned. "I like James, but I don't like him enough to watch a boring game of basketball. Plus, I'm pretty sure he likes you," she says with a nonchalant tone as she applied some powder on her face. You were surprised by how well she was taking that fact. "You've always been the pretty one, after all," she finished, giving you the same tight-lipped smile you gave her before.

The pretty one. You've always been that girl. However, that wasn't really you, was it?

The bell rang. "Time for class," you mumbled, standing up.

Your friend groaned. She had Chemistry next, and so did you. Your teacher wasn't the kindest - actually, scratch that, she was related to the devil. Enduring a whole hour of that man was torture, but it would be complete hell if you were late to class, so you ran as fast as you could. You were lagging behind, while your friend was a good distance away from you already. She would have dragged you along with her, but at this rate it was all man for themselves.

You were out of breath and bumped into at least two students already. The third student you bumped into made you fall to the ground. Whoever that person was definitely worked out because they were definitely made of steel, and not skin.

"Woah, sorry, dudette! Didn't see you there!" He offered his hand. You gratefully took it.

You kept your head low, mumbling apologies.

He laughed. What a carefree laugh, you thought. "It's all cool. I mean, no one was hurt, right? The hero still saved the girl in the end."

The hero? You would have thought it childish that he called himself that, but with this guy, it actually sounded pretty cute.

You looked up to see who you bumped into. You felt your face go red when you saw him. He was sinfully attractive. Much too cute for this world. His blond hair shined as bright as the sun. His starry blue eyes were something you could stare at all day. He was tall and well-built, and the glasses he wore suited him. He had a cowlick that bobbed around cutely as he spoke. He wore an unfaltering smile that made you smile as well.

Crap.

You got a crush. And his name was...

"Alfred F. Jones! Amazing superhero, and even more amazing basketball player!" he boasted, puffing out his chest as he did so.

You didn't even notice him wearing a basketball uniform until he mentioned it.

"I, the hero, am planning to win this with my trusty sidekick-bro, Mattie!"

"Oh... That's, uh, nice. I haven't seen you around school before."

Alfred raised a brow, but his bright smile remained. "Well... I'm sorta playing for the other team," he said with a loud laugh. Loud wasn't enough to describe it. It practically echoed throughout the whole school.

"Oh" was all you could say. So he was playing against your school. Well, looks like it was time to switch sides, you thought. Talk about loyalty...

"Well, the hero's gotta run. I'm supposed to meet up with the others, so I'll see ya' around, dudette!" He waved goodbye, but not before dropping a small piece of paper. Had a teacher seen him, then he would have gotten in massive trouble. Speaking of getting into trouble, you were about to get into one as well if you didn't run to class right now. So you did, completely forgetting about that piece of paper.

When you arrived, you got an earful. Thanks to your tardiness, you were given a pop quiz. It was to teach you a lesson, apparently. Everyone gave you dirty looks. You couldn't blame them. You got distracted by a hot guy instead of hauling ass and running to class.

Even after school ended, a few of classmates were still giving you glares. Ah, you're lucky looks couldn't kill, otherwise you would have been murdered by everyone.

"Ugh... I don't have any energy to cheer for our school," your friend complained, practically dragging her feet to the gym.

You couldn't say the same. You had an Alfred to look forward to.

"It won't be that bad."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I'll be looking through my memes the whole time anyway."

"You do that," you said, hurrying inside to get a good seat, which you did. You sat just in front of the benches where the players sat. A few of the players thought you were going to cheer for them, so occasionally someone would give you a flirtatious wink. But they were replied with apathy, since you were only interested in one guy.

Where's Alfred? You looked around, but couldn't find him, until a loud voice proclaimed that the hero has arrived. All eyes were on the loud newcomer. A few girls blushed at the sight of him, and so did you.

No way am I going to lose to them. My powers may finally come in handy again.

The game ended almost as quickly as it began. Your school's opponents dominated the court. Alfred spoke the truth when he said he was an amazing basketball player. He made nearly impossible shots and sped through the court like a hero with super speed. When they won, you could see he was looking around the crowd for someone. His eyes stopped and landed at you. He mouthed something, but you couldn't understand him.

After all that, everyone exited the gym. The only ones who stayed were those assigned to clean up, and of course, you. You sat on one of the benches and waited for a certain someone.

Someone placed a hand over your eyes. "It's the hero!"

You laughed. "You're not supposed to tell me that."

"Never really followed the rules all that often anyway." He removed his hands and stood in front of you.

"So," he spoke.

"So?"

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself, dudette?"

"Oh." You giggled. "Of course, I'm (your name)."

An awkward silence stayed with the two of you. Alfred kept looking to the side, before eventually excusing himself. A basketball rolled towards your feet during his absence. You picked it up and saw something written on it.

"Wanna go on a date with me? Totally fine if you're not interested! But I'd want my ball back."

You couldn't help but laugh at his adorkable attempt of asking you out.

"Yes, but I have a favor to ask you first."

He suddenly appeared looking awfully pleased and excited. "Anything!"

It finally came. The moment of truth. You were going to ask him that question.

"What do I look like?"

He looked at you oddly, but he answered anyway. "You have (your hair color) hair, (your eye color) eyes, you're sorta (short/tall), and you're pretty hot," he says with a grin.

You suddenly broke down in tears.

He described you.


	2. See You Around (Germany x Reader)

You usually liked to jog during the afternoon, since you weren't exactly a morning person. You tended to sleep in most of the time, so jogging early in the morning wasn't an option unless someone forced you to. Kind of like what you were being forced to do right now. Today, you were woken up at an ungodly hour. Your friend barged into your home, your house key in one of (his/her) hands (which you made a mental note to confiscate as soon as possible), and your running shoes in the other. She threw the pair on your bed, one shoe hitting you square on the face.

"What the hell, (friend's name)," you hissed, eyes still closed as you threw your shoes at the other side of the room. You instantly regretted that action since that was one of your more expensive pair. Given the current pain you were feeling, and the fact that you just "injured" your precious shoes, it was very much likely that you weren't in the best of moods. Next time, you really had to take that emergency key from your friend. Actually, changing the locks would probably be best.

"Jogging. Now," (she/he) says in a hurry, then harshly pulling out the pillow underneath your head. It was a tug-of-war between you two when (she/he) tried to grab your blanket, but you were quick to act and pulled it from her. It was an obvious stalemate, but none of you were willing to relinquish control.

(She/he) gave up after a few more minutes of that, but (she/he) then resorted to shaking you awake, much to your displeasure. Partnered with that was the repeated pleas.

Your patience was thinning. "Oh, my freaking God! Fine! I'll jog with you... For Pete's sake... Shoo! I'm gonna wash my face."

Your friend cheered. "If I see you sleeping again, I'm splashing water on you!" She left your room, slamming the bedroom door closed behind her. It was then that you realized you needed new friends, or else you'd end up in the news for the murder of a certain friend.

You sighed and dragged yourself out of bed. You didn't do much to prepare yourself for this little jog other than splash water on your face and fix your hair up in a simple pony tail. It wasn't as if it was anything special. It was just a burst of your friend's annoying impulsiveness that thirsted for fun. Sometimes you really hated your friends spontaneity. (She/He) often did stuff like breaking into your home to do something "fun" just because (he/she) felt like it. Often, they were actually really fun, sometimes it wasn't. You recalled the time you were suddenly inside a van. You called 911 quickly. Help arrived much sooner than your friend could tell you about the "fun" plan (he/she) had. Needless to say, you two were in a lot of trouble.

The park was a good ten minutes away from your house, so both you and your friend decided to walk there. You glanced at your watch and saw it was only 5:30 in the morning. You groaned and complained the whole way there.

"I know, I know, it's early," your friend says, clearly annoyed already by your complaints, "but you told me you have never tried jogging in the morning, so here we are," she ended with a cheerful note.

You rolled your eyes and ran without (him/her). Every now and then, your friend would call out to you to slow down and wait for (him/her), but you were still pretty pissed, so you ran even faster. You skillfully dodged all the obstacles in the park, all except the tall, muscular - and may you add, handsome - man.

"Uh, can you look where you're going next time?" You said, annoyed. You were quite aware you were at fault, but you couldn't help it. You were still pretty pissed.

The man in question had a stern look, but you could easily spot the faint, almost unnoticeable, blush on his face. He awkwardly offered his hand for you to take. You contemplated whether to take it or not, but you did, in the end. There was no point in letting your anger out on whoever he was. He gave your hand a tight grip and easily picked you up from the ground. You couldn't help but take notice of his biceps.

"I vas distracted," his voice was booming loud, yet it sounded so small, especially since he sounded so awkward. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good. Don't sweat it."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between you two. You would have left if you could, but your hand was still pretty much held by the muscly stranger. You suddenly felt self-conscious. You didn't even bother with brushing your teeth. Perhaps this man was pretty much in shock at how much of a slob you are.

Another man suddenly sprinted past you two with incredible speed. "Ve! I'm free!"

"ITALIA!" the man suddenly shouted, letting go of your hand, and chasing after who you supposed was his friend.

You were left alone, laughing uncontrollably at what just happened. You certainly hoped that wouldn't be the last you saw of them. You didn't even get the stranger's name. Well, you'd find it out when you get the chance, and you had the strongest feeling that would be soon.

You wanted to make sure your friend wouldn't be able to get in your house so easily, so you confiscated (his/her) key, but for extra measure, you installed another lock on your door. Still, after all that, you found yourself trying to wake up early and jog in the morning in hopes of bumping into the tall, muscly, blond man the other day. Key word - tried. Try as hard as you did, it just wasn't in your system to wake up early, so much to your embarrassment, you enlisted your friend's help. On the bright side, convincing (him/her) wasn't as hard as you had thought.

So, everyday, at exactly 5:30 sharp, you two did your morning runs. But to no luck, your morning runs did not involve any run-ins with the man.

Eventually, your friend got too busy for your morning routine, so you had ended up running alone. You didn't mind. Plus, you started to do it so often, you got used to waking up early.

While running, you decided to take a short break and rest under the trees. The shade, partnered with the cool breeze that caressed your face ever so often, offered for a soothing atmosphere.

"Ciao, bella!"

You looked behind you to see who spoke. You then found a young man with short brown hair an warm brown eyes staring back at you. He had a weird curl on the left side of his head (which you were very much tempted to pull). You wondered why this man looked so familiar. Then you remembered where you had seen him. You remember he was the one your awkward, handsome mystery man was chasing after. "You! You're the one muscly-guy chased after!"

"Muscly-guy?" he asked, before lighting up and realizing who you meant, "Ve! You must mean Germany!"

You raised a brow. "Germany?"

"Si! That is what I usually call him! But his real name is Ludwig!"

Ah, so he's German. Well, duh! He did have a German accent.

"Oh, that's cool! Is he, by any chance, with you?"

Before he could answer, the very man himself appeared. You saw the cheerful guy suddenly wave a white flag in panic. You turned around to look at Ludwig. There he was, still as tall and muscly as ever. His bright blond hair was slicked back. His beautiful blue eyes currently held a look of irritation and anger, though when it landed back to you, you were no longer able to tell what that look meant.

He let out an awkward cough before greeting you. "Guten morgen."

"A good morning to you too, Ludwig," you greeted back with a bright smile. You couldn't tell if your eyes were deceiving you, but you could swear you saw a blush on the stoic man's face.

"Germany! I was just about to run again!" True to his words, he did. He ran away and left the both of them behind.

"ITALIA," Ludwig shouted, but to no avail. The Italian was already far from their reach and sight.

Ludwig said a few things in German before turning to you. "He can be a dumpkoff sometimes. Did he do anything?"

You shook your head. "Nope. He did give me your name though, but I guess I did ask for it."

"Ludwig Beilschmidt," he spoke.

"Ah. Good to know! I'm (your name)!" You extended your hand for him to shake. It took a few awkward seconds, but he eventually did.

The same awkward silence from before hung around you again. Again, you couldn't escape since he was - again - holding pretty tightly to your hand. "So, uh, I need to get back to my own jog! Nice meeting you! Bye!" You slipped your hand away from his grasp. As you walked off, you heard him say something that made you smile.

"Ja... See you around," he said, still with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

"I guess we will," you said before running off, suddenly feeling glad that you took some extra time to properly fix yourself up before you went running this time.

Even with that, you didn't 'see each other around' at all. You cursed yourself for not getting his number when you had the chance. Well, there was time for that later. You tried to focus on buying groceries instead of constantly beating yourself up. Oddly enough, pushing along a shopping cart while mindlessly wandering the supermarket was weirdly therapeutic.

"Bella!" you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

You looked around and spotted the carefree Italian, with his own shopping cart that definitely needed a bit more variety. You admitted there wasn't much variety in your cart as well as it was mostly canned goods, since you had the cooking skills of an English man. But the man before you needed a bit more in his cart than just pasta. Although to be fair, there were various types of pasta.

"I haven't seen you for so long! Were you going to buy pasta too?"

"Uh, well..."

You couldn't reply anything else since the conversation was now about pasta. When you shifted the topic to literally anything else, you found the Italian was actually quite entertaining, if not too cheerful. You actually got his number.

When you two parted ways, you promised to meet up soon. He had even asked you out on a date, though you were quick to decline. You still weren't quite over the German. But you were going to meet up tomorrow, and you supposed that was better than moping around and scolding yourself over and over.

Feliciano, you recently learned the Italian's name was, invited you to go to the park. Seeing no harm in that, you did. However, already thirty minutes passed and the Italian was nowhere in sight. You got mad when you realized he ditched you. The fact that you weren't even given a text annoyed you to no end. You frowned and made your way home.

You were ready to leave until a dog pounced on you and gave you slobbery kisses. Great, I got stood up and now I'm covered in dog spit.

"BLITZER, SIT!" It quickly obeyed and removed itself from you, instead sitting right beside you. It patiently waited for its master, and to your shock, was the very man you actually wanted to see - Ludwig.

Ludwig helped you up immediately, offering his handkerchief for you. He scolded his pet, and you could clearly see the sadness in the canine's eyes upon being scolded. Ludwig was quite surprised to see you again, but he did great on hiding that fact. "(Your name)."

"Hey, Ludwig. You kinda caught me at a bad time," you said with an awkward laugh, ready to run away like Feliciano usually did, but once again he was holding onto your hand, preventing you from escaping.

"Ja... I mean, nein! You... Are you busy? I need someone to vatch Blitzer vith me," he says, looking away awkwardly though still holding onto your hand.

You shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

The both of you walked around the park together. At first, the oh-so familiar silence hung around, but Ludwig surprised you when he began speaking about his other dogs. Your topics shifted over to many things, to friends, to the quirky Italian, to siblings, to almost everything. You were surprised how talkative the German actually was, especially how he acted before. What was more surprising was that he didn't let go of your hand the whole time. You were a good distance away from each other, but as you walked, the distance lessened, until eventually your arms bumped into each other ever so often.

The day ended, much to your disappointment, and the time came that the both of you had to go back home.

You were about to ask for his number, but Ludwig beat you to it and asked for yours. You exchanged numbers. A small, satisfied smile on both your faces.

"So, see you around," you said.

The quietest, most cutest of laughs escaped him. "I guess we will," he smiled, echoing your previous words back to you.


	3. Knives and You (2P!Italy x Reader)

You could have been perfect for him. You were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Your (hair length), (hair color) flowed in waves, perfectly adorning your face with its soft, (skin color) skin. Your eyes were framed by your long-lashed; it was a warm, bright (eye color). You seemed like the type that everyone would have wanted to hang-out with; a person with a personality so magnetic, you attracted everyone, even the moody sadist that was Luciano Vargas. He could have mistaken you for an angel had it not been for the annoying flaw hanging around you. The annoying flaw he was referring to was his cheerful, white flag-holding counterpart - Feliciano Vargas. Just saying his name left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Ve, (your name), there are so many knives around here! Someone could get hurt!"

He saw you smile and roll your eyes at the worried - and may he add, stupid - concern. No one cared about getting hurt at a knife shooting range. Getting hurt was even part of the experience! You can't say you've fully experienced the joys of knife throwing without getting hurt at least once. For that, he cursed underneath his breath and absentmindedly aimed a knife at your direction.

"We'll be fine, Feli. See," you say, motioning to a girl, around ten years of age, "even kids are doing it. I promise you won't regret it!" As you spoke, a knife flew past your legs and stuck to floor, only centimeters away from injuring you. "That doesn't usually happen," you quickly assured Feliciano.

You raised a brow at it. Your companion hid behind you in panic as you bent down to pick up the stray knife. "Did somebody lose this?" You asked out loud. "People really need to be a bit more-" you paused and grabbed the knife by its blade, skillfully throwing it at one of the targets with the outline of a human stuck to the wall. It landed precisely where the heart would be located. "-careful," you finished, turning back to Feliciano who was now staring back in awe.

"Strabiliante, bella," cheered Feliciano.

Luciano was watching the whole scene. His feelings for you now increased exponentially. It was as if you aimed a knife straight for his heart as well. That was exactly it. He had to - rather, needed to talk to you. He wasn't going to let his pathetic counterpart steal all your attention. Your focus, he decided at that moment, should only be at him. And your heart, he decided as well, was going to be his. The only thing in the way was that damn happy-go-lucky bastard.

"Feli, you should try it! Hold on, we should choose some knives for you. The quality of the knife is just as important as the skill you need for knife throwing, you know. I believe everyone has their own knives they're destined to be with. We just need to find which knife's your soulmate," you say as you lead Feliciano to the wall, or as you'd like to call it, the gallery of weapons. On the wall, we had your knives and axes, all varying in shapes, sizes, and sharpness. "A little tip though, you gotta choose the one with a pointy - uh, well, point. The edges themselves don't have to be that pointy, understood?"

He gave a playful salute. "Si!"

You laughed.

God, Luciano hated how his pathetic counterpart made you laugh. In his mind, that was his job - and only his. He didn't have a full-proof plan yet, but he had to at least send a message that would tell the other to back off. He was the perfect distance away from you two; far enough not to arouse suspicion, but definitely close enough to hear everything and get a good understanding of what's happening. Without any hesitation, he took his position, all the while making sure no one was looking. He readied himself, aimed, then fired. His knife would have pierced straight through Feliciano's skull had it not been for the surprise that awaited him. Another knife, seemingly coming out of nowhere stopped and deflected his attack. His weapon flew to the other side of the room, while the other knife stuck on the floor. A good centimeter away from his foot.

He was left in shock. The fact that someone managed to his his knife while still in midair both irritated and amazed him. He only knew one person that could do that - him. It was annoying to know that someone could actually be up to par with him, but at the same time it was oddly exciting.

"So it was you," a voice says. An awfully familiar one.

Luciano's eyes, which was stuck to the knife near his foot, looked up to see who owned that voice. It was you.

You held another knife in your hand. Feliciano was now hiding behind you, whispering a few things in your ear. The fact that he was that close to you annoyed him to no end. So much so that he was actually tempted to take aim and throw another knife at Feliciano. But he figured that wouldn't be the best way to gain your affections. He already made quite the impression, not a good one, but he was sure he definitely left an impression on you, at least.

He smirked. His affections for you, if it was even possible, doubled now.

"-but I want you to quit it. I don't know if you're playing around or not, but you should really stop," you were saying, but Luciano realized he wasn't listening. He was far too focused on watching the movement of your lips and wondering how it would feel against his.

"Bella, bella, let's just leave and eat pasta at my house!" Feliciano was already pulling on your arm, dragging you towards the exit, clearly not willing to spend another moment in the knife throwing range.

A few onlookers curiously watched the scene, interested to see how everything would unfold, but upon receiving a death glare from Luciano found themselves looking away and minding their own business. It was clear audience participation wasn't needed.

"You're right, Feli. We should just go," you say before leaving with Feliciano.

With a snap of a finger, the door was suddenly blocked by a scary-looking man. He was huge and his muscles made him feel far scarier than he already was. You two took a step back and found yourselves begrudgingly marching back to where you were standing. Luciano stood before the two of you, a smug look on his face.

"Bella, I saw how good you were before. It was, as that idiot said, strabiliante."

You narrowed your eyes at him. He could see you were getting annoyed being kept in the dark.

"If you and that idiota want to leave, then all you have to do is win the game."

"Game?" you questioned.

"Si, look at those targets," he says, gesturing to the three circular wooden targets with a small red circle in the middle of each of it. "Just hit-"

In no time at all, you aimed for these targets, with three knives at once in one hand. You were swift and skillful, able to hit three of the red circles. Luciano saw the small proud smile you had for yourself. And despite the situation, his usually cowardly counterpart managed to cheer you on during the whole process instead of panicking and looking for his other bastard friend, Ludwig.

You turned to Luciano. "Are we done?"

He shrugged, snapping his fingers again, prompting the scary guy guarding the door to step aside.

You two practically ran to the door, but Luciano made sure you received your prize before you left. When your hand reached the knob of the door, he grabbed on your wrist and made you face him. He crashed his lip on yours, smiling to himself in satisfaction. Your lips were truly as soft and sweet as he had expected. He would have savored the moment for a minute longer, but your hand found its way across his cheek, slapping him and leaving a stinging, satisfying pain on your hand.

You bolted out of the place, leaving behind Luciano who was licking his lips in a seductive manner. "We'll meet again soon, mia bella."


	4. Blank (Canada x Reader)

Everyone had a name written on their wrist. This name wasn't all that important; it didn't impede you from doing work nor did it do anything to harm you in any way. Also, the name on you just happened to be the name of the person you'd be destined to be with for, basically, forever - a soulmate, as everyone called it. Almost everyone had something on their wrist. In extremely rare cases, some people's wrist would be completely empty, just blank; basically, no soulmate. However, this instances are indeed extremely rare - one in a billion, in fact. And oh-so lucky you were that one in a billion.

You didn't mind it as much as everyone else did. Everyone around you had names on their wrist, but most of them didn't end up with their soulmates. Sometimes you just don't get to meet 'the one', they all said, some disappointed, but others perfectly content with their current lives and partners. Your parents, as well, had different names on their respective wrists, yet they still fell in love with each other, and that thought comforted you. So, you've always believed that this whole soulmate business was just a bunch of buffoonery. Just because you had a name on your wrist didn't guarantee you love nor happiness. Yes, you were quite adamant in your belief that 'soulmates were completely stupid', thoroughly despising the fact that a name on your wrist had the power to dictate who you'd fall in love with.

Your belief simply made you more of an oddball to everyone. You were already weird in everyone's eyes, given the fact that you had nothing on your wrist, or a "blank", as the media called you, but your opinions against soulmates just made you seem weirder.

During the first few years of your life, you were quite the celebrity. "Blanks" were rare, after all. Your family got harassed by tireless, persistent reporters. Often, you were bombarded with requests to appear in morning talk shows to narrate your life and, you quote, "tragedy of being a blank". Needless to say, it got annoying easily. But, the media eventually got bored of you and found new issues and oddballs to feature. You became a passing trend, and you were completely fine with that. There were still a few people who pitied you, some despised you and feared you for your supposed "curse", but you didn't mind. You were ten years old then, and all you truly worried about was getting someone to play hide-and-seek with you.

After all that chaos, your parents decided the best thing for you was a completely new environment. A place where no one would recognize you, and you'd recognize no one. So, you moved to a small town, and seven years passed you by like a blur.

There was now a name on your wrist. It wasn't something that magically appeared, but something you made appear. Everyday, without fail, you wrote a name on your wrist. It was a suggestion made by your parents, which you reluctantly agreed to do to appease their worries. You couldn't quite remember all the details during the days those reporters bugged you to no end, but you were certain you didn't want a repeat of it. So, you wrote a random name on your wrist everyday. It was hard work, if you had to be honest. You always had to make sure it always looked the same as it did the day before and made sure to retouch it every hour to make sure the ink wouldn't fade.

Matthew Williams was the name of your choosing. You chose it for the sole reason that you simply liked the name. Other than that, it was just a name for you. It held no other meaning or purpose other than to protect you.

You were quite confident you would never ever meet a Matthew Williams in your lifetime, especially not in the small town where you lived in. It was, after all, the type of town people only came to when they had no other choice, or had to go incognito (like you did). But all of those confidence you had that you'd never ever come across a Matthew Williams disappeared when one of your good friends, Alfred Jones, introduced you to the new student that would be studying in your school. He was a Canadian, quiet and shy, and wouldn't you know it, had the name "Matthew Williams."

Upon meeting you, he immediately blushed once he took notice of your wrist. You, of course, panicked and ran away, leaving both Matthew and Alfred confused. You ran to the bathroom, rushing to an empty stall and locking yourself inside. You stayed in there for almost twenty minutes, since you took a long time to calm yourself down, and retouch the name on your wrist. As you did so, you felt a pang of guilt. You wondered whether what you did could be considered deceitful, until you realized you've been deceiving everyone your whole life with this whole thing you've been doing for the past seven years.

You left the stall and took a long look of yourself at the mirror before leaving the loo.

"Get it together, (your name). Everything will be fine as long as you keep your cool," you said to yourself, not fully believing your own words.

As soon as you stepped out, you were met with the shy smile of Matthew and the confused look of Alfred.

"Dude, what was that for? I was just introducing you to my brother," Alfred says, before a mischievous grin appeared on his face. His hand suddenly reaches for your hand, revealing your wrist in front of Matthew. "And your future husband," he continued with a cheerful laugh, pushing Matthew playfully towards you.

"Alfred!" You and Matthew said in a scolding tone, both faces red.

Alfred couldn't hide his amusement with the both of you. "What? It's not like I'm lying or anything. Mattie-bro, show your wrist," he said. When he saw his brother wasn't going to do as he asked, he decided to take matters upon his own hands. Much like what he did with you, he took his brother's arm and revealed his wrist with a name written on it. It was your name.

You were surprised to say the least. For a moment, you even believed that maybe you were his soulmate. But that wasn't possible. You were "blank". There are billions of people in the world, probably millions with the same name as yours, you rationalized. You wanted to say it right then and there that you were definitely not the one for him. This was all just a coincidence. But how can you even convince him without revealing that you don't have a name on you. The truth is, you can't, but that didn't mean you wouldn't try.

"Listen, this is great news and all, I'm sure... but..."

"But what, dude? Come on, a few dates wouldn't hurt, right?" Alfred says, "Besides, if it doesn't work out - which I highly doubt - then your wrist probably means a different Mattie, and Mattie's wrist probably means a different (your name). You're not gonna find out if you don't try."

Alfred just had to pick this day to be convincing...

You looked at Matthew who had been silent the whole time his brother spoke. "It wouldn't hurt," he says with a quiet voice, "but it's fine if you don't want to. I don't want you to say yes just because Alfred-"

"-the hero," Alfred cut in.

Matthew rolled his eyes, continuing, "said so."

You wanted to say no just to save him from the pain that would come once he discovers you aren't his soulmate, but you figured Alfred would never stop bothering you if you didn't try. "No, I guess one or two dates would be fine."

Alfred cheered. "Don't forget to make me the best man in your wedding, Mattie!"

"Alfred!" both you and Matthew say again.

You then found yourselves staring at each other. He smiled shyly at you, and you found yourself smiling back.

As soon as school ended, the both of you agreed to go on date. You didn't think you'd have to spend time with him alone so soon, but the self-proclaimed hero you knew made sure that you wouldn't be waiting too long. He forced both of you to go to the cafe nearby, stating that the sooner you found out if you were suited for each other, the better.

"I'm really sorry for my brother," Matthew apologized as you two walked together.

"It's fine. I mean, you have to deal with him when you get home," you said.

He laughed. It was, in your opinion, a very melodic sound. It was unlike Alfred's which was always far too loud, sometimes even hurting your ears. It was calming somehow.

On the way to the cafe, you learned a few things about Matthew. You discovered he was very patriotic, perhaps rivaling Alfred's own patriotism. He got rather embarrassed when you pointed it out, stuttering a few incomprehensible words. You also found out he apparently kept a stuffed bear named Kuma-something. You didn't bother asking why the bear's name kept changing when he mentioned it. He spoke about his brother and how people often mistook him for Alfred, leading him to trouble. He, in turned, listened when you spoke. He was a great listener, you discovered, as well as a great person to approach for advice.

"How can people mistake you for Alfred? I guess you do kinda look alike, but not that alike."

"I don't know myself. I wish he would stop getting in trouble though."

You offered him a sympathetic smile. "Hey, at least you've got me to help when someone thinks you're Alfred."

He smiled back. "Thanks, but we should probably just stop Alfred from getting in trouble instead."

"Matthew, I can't do the impossible," you joked.

When you reached the cafe, you already formed quite the connection and acted as if you were old friends. You thought that whoever his soulmate was is a very lucky person. It's a huge shame it wasn't you, but what could you do?

The cafe wasn't the same as you remembered it before. You were thirteen when you last came, an back then it was still rather small, but had a very cozy feeling to it. The walls were decorated with posters ranging from bands to movies the owner liked, so their wasn't much consistency, but somehow it all fit together. Most of the chairs were uncomfortable cushioned bar stools back then, but you were glad to see those chairs were thrown away now. The posters got taken down, and now in its place were various oil paintings. In addition, you could see the place made a lot of renovations and expanded the area.

"Wow, this place really changed a lot," you say as you stare at the familar - and at the same time - unfamiliar place.

You turned to Matthew as soon as you finished gawking at the place. You found him mouthing words to someone outside. Your eyes turned to where he was looking at and, lo and behold, there was Alfred outside the clear glass doors with a cowboy hat and a pair of sunglasses on. There were people staring at him, others annoyed since he was blocking the entrance.

"What is he doing here?" you asked.

Matthew, in panic, blurted out, "He's coaching me."

You suppressed the amused smile on your face. "What?"

Alfred gestured to his pockets, mouthing something to Matthew.

He turned to you, blushing furiously when he did. He took out some papers in his pockets and proceeded to fumble about with them. "I... um... did you fall from heaven?" Before you could answer, he spoke again, "Because you're the only ten that I see. E-eh? Wait, no... That's not..."

You could no longer help yourself as you broke into a fit of giggles, causing Matthew's cheeks to go redder. He looked to Alfred for help, but found that his brother was no longer there to assist him. It looks like he'd be doing this on his own for now.

"Oh, my goodness... That was so cute!" you gushed, now calming yourself down from your previous laughing fit.

He stuttered out words, but found it was almost a Herculean task to speak properly. It was only when you completely stopped yourself from laughing did he find his confidence to speak again. "Can we start over?"

You though about it, but you really didn't want to. "Fine, but I'm never forgetting that. That would be a good story for the kids someday," you say. Your words came out so suddenly, even you surprised yourself for saying something so carelessly. "I... I mean..."

He laughed, dismissing your early remark.

You thought then that even if you weren't soulmates, you would definitely be good friends.

After that, you began hanging out far more often than you expected. Sometimes it would be because of Alfred's doing, but often you sought for each other out of your own volitions. He always waited for you after classes, and you often waited for him when he played basketball with Alfred.

"I get a bit better at basketball when you're watching," you remember him telling you, making your heart flutter at his words.

You even got to the point where he introduced to you his stuffed bear, and his kind, welcoming, albeit weird, family. (You hated to admit it, but Alfred was a lot normal than you thought).

Soon, you went out more and had more dates with each other. You held hands and acted exactly as couples would.

Today, you two went out on another date. It was at the cafe where you had your first date. You two found a table, secluded from the others and emitting a peaceful aura. He ordered for the both of you, letting him choose since you weren't the most decisive person. You were thoroughly enjoying this whole experience until you realized you weren't supposed to be enjoying this at all. You went on one date with him in hopes of it not working out, but it did, and now you held feelings for Matthew you weren't supposed to have in the first place.

He was kind and sweet, and just the best anyone could hope to be with, but how would he react when he found out your wrist was actually blank? When you finally told him you couldn't continue this anymore because you weren't the one he was looking for. Everything was a coincidence, and you took advantage of it. Already, you could see the judgment in people's eyes and the unneeded pity when everyone in town discovers you're blank.

"Is everything alright?" Matthew asked worriedly as he set down the tray of food on your table. He saw the panicked look in your face and immediately thought he had done something to offend you.

"I... uh, I'm... it's just that... I need to... I need to go," you stood up, gathering your things, ready to leave.

"E-Eh?"

"I'm sorry. It's just... very hard to explain. I'm really sorry, Matthew," you said before walking out. You didn't dare look back in fear of seeing the expression in Matthew's face.

Without warning, the rain - fast and hard - began to pour, leaving you drenched. You panicked and quickly began looking for shelter. You feared what would happen if Matthew followed you. You feared tomorrow since you'll need to face him. Even if you tried to avoid him, Alfred was one of your classmates and would definitely interrogate you once he finds out about what happened. But what worried you the most at the moment was the writing on your wrist that was beginning to get washed away by the rain. It goes without saying that you needed to get home. Now.

"(Your name)," Matthew called out to you, umbrella in hand as he sprinted to you.

Your eyes widened in panic. "M-Matthew?"

"It's raining. I... At least, for the last time, let me walk you home," he says, walking closer to you.

"I... I can't! I'm sorry, Matthew, but after this let's try and forget everything..."

You could see his heart crush as yours shattered when you spoke those words. "I'm not your soulmate, Matthew," you finally told him. He deserves the truth. You could at least give him that, you thought.

"But... how can you say that? Your name... and my name... it's..."

"Your name," you say with a humorless laugh. "Matthew, there's nothing on my wrist." You revealed your wrist; the name "Matthew Williams" already fading, and most of the ink spreading throughout your arm. "I'm sorry."

You began walking away. Your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably and your shoes soaked in water. You commanded your feet to keep moving, to keep walking. You told yourself to cry once you reached home.

Suddenly, a shout so loud called out to you. Screaming your name with so much pain, it startled you so. Your heard footsteps and the sound of someone sprinting to you. Someone grabbed ahold of your arm, making you face them. You were met with the pained, angered expression of Matthew. You never knew he could even make such a face. It hurt seeing him like this, but it hurt even more when you knew you were the reason he was like that.

"I don't care about that," he says with a voice louder than his brother's. "I used to, but I met you! I hate that you think you can just leave like that... I don't want you to leave me. Please, don't."

"But... I'm not..."

"Maybe you aren't, but that doesn't change my feelings for you. (Your name), I like you," he spoke so surely, but all his confidence faltered the second he finished speaking. "Unless you really don't like me anymore..."

"You idiot, of course I still do." You finally broke down in tears and ran to his arms, hiding your face in his chest and letting his warmth envelop you.

In the distance, Alfred was cheering loudly, an umbrella in his hand and a camera on the other. "I told you it would all work out!"


	5. Awesome (Prussia x Reader)

You stood in front of the teacher's faculty with one of the stricter teachers beside you. You were lucky to never have evoked the wrath of this teacher, but that didn't mean you could escape his frequent tirades. At the very least, you were glad that his lectures weren't directed at you, but that didn't mean you didn't get bored hearing it nearly every day of the week. You weren't sure why, but he seemed to think that since you were the school council president, you had to be present every time he had to give his sermon to some poor troublemaker.

Your teacher often spoke with a rude condescending tone when he was mad. Actually, he spoke like that to everyone younger than him - pissed or not - causing his popularity with everyone in school to dive down, but he didn't seem affected by that fact since he either didn't care or he didn't know. "You fought with one of the students again, didn't you, Beilschmidt?"

You saw Gilbert fold his arms in a nonchalant manner. "Ja, so what?"

Wrong answer.

The man beside you exploded. He began his speech on how he was the cause of society falling apart. So, same old, same old. "You bring nothing but shame to this school! You will never amount to anything! I'm not even surprised everyone's given up on you, Beilschmidt. Even your own father knows you're a lost cause."

You saw that that comment struck a nerve with Gilbert. His fists were clenched tightly, but the look on his face remained the same - apathetic.

Your teacher finished his sermon, entered the faculty and slammed the door behind you.

"Frau, how can jou handle that everyday?"

You shrugged. "You get used to it. Besides, I'm not at the receiving end of it, so I'm fine. Anyway, let's get you to the nurse." You walked off, him trailing right behind you. He didn't have any serious injuries, luckily, but he still needed treatment. As much as he insisted his wounds would awesomely heal without the nurse's help, you continued escorting him to the clinic.

Once you reached the place, you opened the door for him and let him in. "Did you win?" You asked before he entered.

"Huh?" A look of confusion crossed over his face.

"The fight, I mean," you explained.

"Uh, well, ja. The awesome me never loses, frau!" He puffed out his chest and smiled proudly.

"That's awesome," you say, genuinely impressed. You then spotted a faint red appearing on his bruised cheek, but you decided not to mention it to him. "Oh, I need to get to class. Get your wounds checked. And if you're going to get into another fight, try not to get yourself killed." Without another word, you left.

That was probably the first time the awesome Gilbert didn't have an awesome reply to say back. But he did smile at your retreating figure, and somehow he didn't feel as mad as he did before.


	6. Free Hugs (Russia x Reader)

School sure does make you do a lot of unnecessary stuff. Homework that will ultimately end up in the trash; performances that will more or less be embarrassing, rather than informative; and experiments that are basically useless. Such experiments like the one you were doing right now.

You, standing in the middle of the quadrangle, were wearing a large sign that said "FREE HUGS" in huge, colorful letters. Thankfully it was a cloudy day, so the sun wasn't much of a bother. Not that many people came to hug you, and the few that did were girls who seemed just as embarrassed as you are. Some whispered "good luck" as well. No one really bothered you.

Your groupmates were watching in the sidelines, recording the whole thing with their phones. You felt bad for letting them do most of the work, so you volunteered to be the lab rat of your social experiment (which you still didn't know the title of).

So, there you stood, blindfolded, might you add, waiting for the next person to hug you. You couldn't see the group of boys, being blindfolded and all that after all, talking and pushing one of their friends towards you. You could hear them shouting "just do it" and "don't be a wimp" to him.

"S-Sorry," the person stammered.

Someone hugged you from behind, and the boys went silent. You suspected it was the boy that was dared to hug you. Perhaps their silence meant they didn't think their friend would have the guts to hug you.

"S-Sorry," again, the boy stammered, more scared than he sounded before. You could hear retreating footsteps, yet you were still enveloped in a warm hug.

If the boy left, then who was hugging you right now?

"Privet," a cheerful voice said. His chin, you felt, rested atop your head. In the background, you could hear your friends groaning.

"Ivan, what are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't I be the one doing the asking, sunflower?" He asked back, pulling you closer to him. "Why is everyone hugging you?"

"It's an experiment, silly. I need to do this, otherwise I'd have no contribution at all to our project."

He made a low hum and stayed quiet, still not showing any signs of releasing you from his hold. "Nyet."

"What?"

"Nyet," he repeated, his voice starting to sound less cheerful now. "No one else can be hugging you if I am hugging you," he stated happily.

"So... What you're saying is... You're going to stay here with me for an hour?"

"Da," he said, then singing an unfamiliar song. It all sounded Greek to you - er, Russian, in this instance.

"Are you hungry, sunflower?"

"Nope, but I am thirsty."

"Do not worry. Toris will be bringing food and drinks." You felt something warm press against your cheeks. It was quick and almost felt as if it was only the wind, but you knew it wasn't.

"Ivan, I can't just take a break."

"Nyet, you will be taking a rest. Your little friends already gave me permission," he happily told you.

You sighed. Truly nothing was going to stop your boyfriend once he made his decision. Such as when he decided to pursue you. You kept saying no the first few times, in fear of evoking his sister's wrath, but he grew on you. And, well, now you've been together for a whole year, and Natalya, while she did glare ever so often, left you alone.

You removed your blindfold, looked up and saw Ivan smiling down on you. He kissed you on your forehead, and smiled once again, still holding you lovingly.

You sighed. "Well... There goes my contribution."

You worried about that for a whole five seconds before enjoying your time with Ivan instead. School can wait.

When Ivan cupped your chin and made you face him. He leaned in, his forehead touching yours. You close your eyes, and both of you sounded breathless after you kissed.

Yep. School can definitely wait.


	7. I Love You (England x Reader)

It started out as a short excursion. You just wanted a quick joy ride to clear your mind, watch the scenery, enjoy the cool breeze passing you as you drove... But accidents happen, and now you're bleeding. Glass sticking out all over your body. Your ankle twisted in a sickening manner. You found yourself slowly losing consciousness.

Where were you? In a deserted road somewhere. You were sure help would be too late to arrive. The birds chirped cheerfully, as if there was no gruesome scene in front of them. The trees... You saw another car crashed into it. One of the branches fell and dropped onto the car.

What happened? You can't remember the exact details, just the sounds of your own scream as you realized your breaks weren't working. You saw how the other car swerved to get out of your way.

To think you just wanted to get some fresh air... Well, it seems like life had other plans for you.

You tried reaching for your pocket. It was painful, what with all the glass sticking to your skin, but you were too determined to let the pain get to you. You were glad your phone was still working well enough despite the crash. You scanned through your contacts and quickly pressed on the call button for Arthur. One of your dearest friends and the man you came to love despite his short temper and horrible skills in the kitchen.

You waited as the phone rang. Those few seconds were agonizing. You always considered yourself to be a patient person, but you had a time limit right now. And death was literally right at your door.

When he finally picked up, you smiled. "Hello, Y/N."

"Hey, Iggy!" you say, trying to sound as cheerful as you could.

"Don't call me that! I knew I shouldn't have let that bloody git Alfred tell you about my nickname."

Your vision slowly started blurring, and you could feel yourself slowly slipping into darkness, but you persisted in staying awake. A few more minutes... You just needed a few more minutes. "Kidding, kidding. I just want to tell you I'm coming over, Arthur."

"W-What? Couldn't you have told me earlier? I don't have any food prepared."

You always thought you'd die of food poisoning before, but Arthur always said that was nonsense and that his food would never kill anyone. Turns out he was right... for the most part, that is. "I know. That's why I'm coming. Your food is..."

"My food is perfectly fine!"

You managed a laugh. Your voice was starting to get quiet as you continued losing far too much blood.

"Why is your voice so quiet?"

"Bad cell reception. Don't worry about it."

"I see," you knew he doubted that fact, but you were glad he decided not to talk about it.

Your eyelids now felt heavy. Your eyes closed, and your voice was as quiet as a whisper. "Arthur, I love you."

"Sorry, love, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

As much as you would have wanted to answer, you were gone and left with a peaceful, satisfied look in your face.

Arthur stood in front of you with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. An empty look occupied his face as he fell down on his knees. He pressed his forehead against your tombstone as he let his tears fall. He let go of the flowers and clutched on the edge of the tombstones, finally breaking down in pained and anguished sobs.

"I love you," he screamed, yet no matter how loudly he spoke these words, he'd never live to hear your reply anymore.


	8. Please Don't Have Laid Down Your Life (Prussia x Reader)

The crowd erupted in cheers and cries of relief for their soldiers have returned. The brave men trudged along in single file, wearing scars and bloodstains in their clothing. The few mounted in horses were those who died bravely in war and were undoubtedly set to return to their grieving families. Amongst the crowd, you were attempting to squeeze in to the front to get a good view of the proclaimed heroes, trying to search for a certain albino, looking hopefully to those walking with their own two feet, before despair hit and your eyes scanned to the dead mounted on horses, half-hoping to see him, half-hoping not to.

"The awesome me can't die in battle, liebling!" he told you before leaving, sporting overused armor and an arrogant grin you knew all too well when he was feigning confidence. His words echoed in your ears, tears starting to fill your eyes. You clutched the letter in your hand tightly, crumpling it, before stuffing it in your pocket and running away from the crowd. Your behavior didn't strike anyone as odd at all; most were too happy to even notice, others thought that you were another who lost a loved one.

He left you a ring and a promise of his safe return before he got sent off.

"I'll come back for 'jou, liebling. Death is too boring for the awesome me!" you remember him saying, the small, yellow bird perched atop his head tweeting loudly in agreement.

"I swear if you don't come back to me in one piece, I'm asking Elizabeta to drag you back here," you threatened, your voice betraying you as you burst into tears when you hugged him, clinging to him, almost certain it would be the last you ever saw of your loudmouth, arrogant Gilbert.

You didn't even notice you reached your house atop the small hill. Your own house looking overcast despite the brightness of the sun shining over it. Flying wildly over your poorly kept garden was Gilbird, chirping even louder upon your return. The small bird flew over to you, rubbing his head on your cheeks, almost as if it was trying to wipe your tears away.

Gilbird, you remembered, came with Gilbert to war, but after a few months he returned flying back to you, chirping and flying wildly in panic, pecking your fingers when you came to get him. Gilbird returned with no sign of his owner around. The uneasiness you felt then burgeoned into complete worry, but you were adamant in your belief that he would return. He just had to, you told yourself.

"Thanks, Gilbird," you said, petting the bird and placing him on your shoulder. "I'm sorry... Our stupid Gilbert isn't in the parade for the soldiers... You would think he would be there, basking in all the attention and glory he would be receiving, but I bet you he's probably at the back of the line... maybe drunk or something. You know how he is," you spoke to the bird, who you swore always chirped back in understanding, wiping away the tears in your eyes.

Suddenly remembering the letter in your pocket, you took it out and tossed it in the trash. You memorized the contents, and what was inside was complete rubbish, so there was no need to keep it anyway. Absolute rubbish...

"Chica," Antonio's voice came, knocking on your door urgently. You heard him speaking with someone; his voice was very familiar.

Running to the door, Gilbird now resting on your shoulder, you opened it and gave an odd look to your unexpected visitors – Antonio and Francis, both of which were close friends of Gilbert, both of which also joined to fight in war, and both of which wore expressions that they have lost something precious to them.

"Oh, hey, guys! Have you seen Gilbert? Did he get himself drunk again? Geez, is he with you? That man can really be troublesome, but that's why we're here in case he messes up, right?" You say, trying to lighten the mood, trying to erase their forlorn expressions, but your voice cracked and tears cascaded down your cheeks.

"Crap..." you gave a mirthless laugh, and hastily wiped away the tears in your eyes, "Sorry, guys, I've been all over the place ever since I got that weird letter... Stupid, actually, but it..."

Francis and Antonio gave you worried glances. Both unsure how they were supposed to give you the news you already knew, yet continued to deny. Francis delivered the message, but he made sure you were sitting down with Antonio right behind you just in case: Gilbert is dead. He didn't dawdle; he knew better than to prolong it. You deserved to know.

At first everything felt numb. The words didn't register quickly, but when it did you became despondent. Gilbert... dead...

Gilbert was dead... and suddenly the contents of the letter came back to you... we regret to inform you that Gilbert Beilschmidt has been reported dead. We extend to you our deepest sympathy in your great loss... The image of his body came into view, mounted on one of the horses, hanging lifelessly as the people shared looks of sympathy. You saw it the first time it arrived; it was the first one in the long line of dead bodies, but you tried hard then to convince yourself it wasn't him.

Antonio and Francis, though persistent to stay with you, eventually left after your outbursts. You pushed them out and slammed the door behind them, wanting to grieve over your lover's death alone. Gilbird flew out as well, almost sensing your desire to be left alone.

I want to meet you... I want to see you... where are you, Gilbert? Please, save me from these lonely days.... Let me hear your voice call my name...

"I'll definitely return," he kept reassuring you, back then "and then we will live our lives together, and I'll never leave you alone again, liebling."

"I want to see you again," you cry out in anguish at the sun that turned into the moon without your notice. The night winds carry your words, never reaching Gilbert. The days passed and song of peace ring out in praise of the heroes, but you couldn't hear any of it if Gilbert wasn't around. What was the point? Gilbert was dead...

"Please... let me hear your voice call my name..." you cried out as a new morning comes. You stay upon your open window, patiently waiting for the return of the figure of the man you knew would never come. And as the new day begins, you continue your fruitless search for him.


	9. Relationship Advice (Scotland x Reader)

"Hold on. You're asking me for relationship advice?" you asked incredulously, the curve of your lips twitching upwards. You couldn't hide the amusement in your voice when the Arthur Kirkland - the grumpy, prideful, snarky Brit himself came to your apartment door, asking for advice. Relationship advice, no less! "You really want my advice? As in... my advice? From me? You do realize this would all be coming from me. Like... well, me!"

"I'm well aware of that, love," Arthur said, a mixture of annoyance, amusement, and embarrassment in his tone. His cheeks were tinted pink, turning a shade darker when you did nothing to hide the delighted smile on your face. He didn't think you'd be this happy.

"Advice... from me?" You shook your head, laughing softly as you pulled him inside. You were definitely going to enjoy this. It wasn't often people came to you for advice, not after a certain incident involving... well, that's not important right now. "Boy, you must be really desperate to come to me! Oh, wait, that's not what you'd want to hear... I'm not awful at this. Giving advice, I mean- I just made one mistake and people never forget. Whatever, right?" You waved off a pesky fly in the air, along with yours and Arthur's concerns.

Arthur sat himself down on the couch, starting to regret coming to you for advice, but it's not like he came here for the advice anyway. He knew you wouldn't tell a single soul about his small predicament, and you were after all more famed for your "sympathy and tea," as you yourself began to call it. (which was a line he was well aware you stole from Harry Potter! For God' sake, he was an Englishman and an avid fan of the series! That won't go past his head so easily!)

"So... advice, huh? What are we talking about? Fights, asking people out, forgetting birthdays? Anniversary, maybe?" You began to list down the possible problems he may have, using your fingers to count it all down for him. There was no sign of you stopping anytime soon, so Arthur spoke the second you paused to breathe.

Truthfully, there was no need to list down forgetting anniversaries and whatnot; he wasn't in any relationship with anyone, after all. Actually, that was the problem he would like to remedy. Lately, a loud, obnoxious, self-proclaimed American hero was starting to get attracted to him... and yes, in that way.

"Ah, asking people out. I suppose I have some expertise in that area. Well, people like to feel special, don't they? So, my advice is to go all out!" You spread your arms wide for emphasis. "I'm talking flowers, chocolates, maybe a string quartet, you know, the whole nine yards! I'm telling you, Art, people can't say 'no' to a string quartet!"

"Lass, ain' that a bit much? I say just go an' say it," Allistor suddenly came out, half-naked with only a towel around his waists. His hair was still dripping wet as he only came out of the shower. The brothers had a small stare-off before Arthur eventually conceded and Allistor looked at you, his stare softening.

"Just going out and say it? Sorry to disagree with you, Allistor, but that's definitely not the way to go!" You turned your head away from him, a defiant pout in your face.

Allistor sighed and pushed back his wet hair away from his face. He walked to you, standing just behind where you were sitting, leaning down to you and planting soft kisses at the side of your neck.

Arthur, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here, grumbled at them. "You gits, I still have a problem I'd like to solve!" His bushy brows furrowed together in frustration as he groaned while the scene in front of him continued.

"He's right, Allistor," you said, playfully pushing away his face away from you. There was time for that later, but damn that man, she was usually a patient woman though if he continued, he might have to send away his brother sooner than expected. "You know what else is right? My idea."

"I'm not opposed to flowers and chocolate, but a string quartet?"

"That's why a'm telling ye tae just tell the person, ye git," Allistor said, remaining firm in his own advice.

You rolled your eyes. "Come now, that wouldn't work. You need to wow the person! Trust me, Art, if it were me, I'd say yes in a heartbeat."

"Na. Just be direct 'n' tell 'em."

"No, woo them with your extravagance!"

This little back-and-forth continued on, leaving Arthur more confused now than he was before. The flowers and chocolate weren't a bad idea, he just didn't think there was a need for a string quartet. If he made a fool of himself, best have it between Alfred and him instead. His git of a brother's idea wasn't bad either, just a bit too plain, in Arthur's opinion.

"I'm telling you it's not going to work!" you shouted back.

Allistor growled. "Don't be ridiculous, lass! It will!"

You answered him with just as much ferocity. "No, it won't!"

Arthur sighed. Really now... They were fighting about this? They sort of reminded him of an old married couple.

"It led me ta' the love of my life didn't it?" Allistor said, smirking.

You, in turn, became a blushing mess at his statement. You then retorted back, "Well, by that logic, wouldn't my strategy work, too? I mean... I was able to get you." You smiled at him, rather mischievously, Arthur noted.

Within a minute, Arthur was thrown out of you and Allistor's apartment. He shuddered to think about what you and his brother would do when he saw Allistor carry you inside your bedroom, bridal style, but he had a pretty good idea.

Damn it. Arthur was pretty frustrated with the turn of events, but he couldn't deny you were pretty much what they called goals.


	10. A Thousand Lucky Stars (Male!Belarus x Reader)

Nikolai was an odd boy. He, for one, had what many considered a creepy interest with knives; he had an impressive collection at home and would bring a new one at school every day. He'd get scolded for bringing a weapon at school, and usually it would get confiscated, but he had enough skills and connection to get it back. Also, he liked his sister in that way. Obsessed, some would say, was a more accurate term. From the very beginning, Nikolai held a deep infatuation for her her sister, to the point where he was so determined to marry her.

He, like every other day, was searching for his sister who ran away upon the sight of him. It stung that his sister would do that, but he was sure she had her reasons. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't him. Of course it wasn't. Why would it be him? He kept telling himself. He just wanted to invite his sister out to lunch. Was that so wrong?

"Eeep," a girl shrieked as he accidentally bumped into her. It was you. He recognized you, knew your name, but that was about it. He had no other information about you except for your name and the fact that your only relationship with him was classmates. Truthfully, you didn't stand out. You were as noticeable as the Canadian kid who sat in the back with her loud obnoxious sister. The fact that he would even come to recall your name was surprising to him. He didn't think you'd be that significant to him.

Colorful strips of paper flew around and landed on the floor, creating a colorful mess of a rainbow. You panicked as you quickly knelt down to pick it all up. You were clutching a large bottle of water which had small paper stars instead of a drink inside. There was a red bow tied around the neck of the bottle and a little note stapled on its end. The bottom of the bottle had violet paper stars on the bottom, followed by indigo one on top of it, then blue, then green, and finally yellow. It filled up most of the bottle. Upon impact, most of its contents spilled, so not only were you trying to pick up the colorful strips of paper, you were also frantically placing the colorful stars back in your bottle.

"Do you know my sister?" Nikolai questioned.

You didn't hear him. You were far too focused in your current activity.

Nikolai sighed and knelt down to help you out. He didn't have enough patience for this, but if it helped him find his sister sooner, then he would do it.

"Do you know my sister?" he repeated.

He saw you look up quickly, not stopping from picking up your stars. "Oh-uh... I, uh..." You tried to formulate a coherent reply, but you seemed distracted with something. It annoyed him, since you were only staring right through his soul - what on earth could distract you?

He wouldn't have that, so he cupped your chin and forced you to stare at him. He was going to get answers. There was only half an hour left for lunch, if he hurried then he might just be able to catch up to his sister and eat with her. He could already imagine that glorious moment. It felt like an eternity since they last did it. The last time he remembered eating lunch with his sister was around two years ago, and even then he couldn't have his sister all to himself. The Baltic Trio and his older brother had to stay and bother them. If he recalled correctly, he won an acrobatics contest then, hence why they decided to celebrate by having lunch at their garden.

"It... uh... She's... I don't- I mean, I'm not... I'm sorry, I don't know where she is!" you cried out, pushing yourself away from him.

His eyes landed on your bottle of stars. He handed the strips of paper to you and stood up. "What is that?" he couldn't help but ask. Well, he knew what it was. He was more curious why you had it.

"Oh, they're lucky paper stars," you answered, smiling shyly.

He remembered hearing about that from the Japanese girl the loud Italian was acquainted with. He thought it was a waste of time.

"I-I'm making one for me and a friend," you say, standing up and shoving the strips of paper inside your bag, already starting to put some distance between the two of you. "Thank you," you mumbled before running off.

Weird, he thought. His opinions of you didn't change until he bumped into you again the next day.

Again, he was looking for his sister. It was the end of the day and he wanted to walked her home, though by the looks of it, it appeared that everyone already went home. Well, almost everybody. He passed by you at the school gardens, hanging around near the company of the blooming flowers. He saw you were diligently creating paper stars again. He wondered why on earth you were working so hard with that?

A text momentarily brought him back from his activity of observing you. It was from his sister, and oddly enough it didn't make his heart flutter as much as it did during the other time when he received a text from Anya. It was a simple text that only told him Anya arrived at home, safe and sound. Seeing as there was no point in wandering around the school, searching for his sister, he decided he may as well go home.

A sniff followed by quiet sobs came, causing him to stop on his tracks. A scene played in his mind: a crying boy that painfully reminded him of himself - and now you, too - was shrouded in darkness. He shook those thoughts away Whatever it was you were crying about, that was your business. He went home, but try as hard as he did, he couldn't erase the feeling of regret that came from not comforting you.

It bothered him so much that even the thoughts of marrying his sister didn't calm him. He tried to distract himself with reading the newspaper, Pravda, but that didn't work. He brandished his knives, tried to gather more useless trivia, but all attempts of forgetting you was futile. His older brother even dropped by his room just to check on him, but he said nothing.

The next day came and there you were again making paper stars at the garden. There were still a few minutes left before classes started, and Nikolai came to the place on a hunch that he would find you again. And he was right, sitting right by the flowers that were still as bright as ever was you. He was about to walk up to you until he realized how stupid it was to just walk up to you and talk about what happened yesterday. What was he to you? Nothing more but a classmate. And what were you even to him? Nothing but a classmate as well. Your relationship was nothing more than that. To suddenly ask him about yesterday would be crossing boundaries he wasn't sure the both of you would even be comfortable with. He needed to remember his role. So again, he left you. And again, the smothering feeling of regret accompanied him the whole day.

A day passed, and he found himself speaking with his sister about purchasing a more comfortable chair. He told her Anya should do as she wished, and they left it at the that. You managed to catch his eye when you passed by, but Anya and him rarely talked, so he ignored you as you did him. Another day came and he found himself running after his sister, though this time with less fervor and within three hours he eventually gave up. He saw you again, and you did him. He forced a smile on his face when you looked at him, but you immediately ran away after seeing him. Another day passed, and you were apologizing to him in front of the classroom for your rude behavior. You promised to treat him to lunch. Anya passed by, catching his eye, but he looked back to you, then to Anya. He shook his head and agreed to eat with you. During those days, he never bothered to ask you about your crying.

When lunchtime came, he found himself eating with you in silence. Unable to stand it, he questioned why you kept making paper stars.

"It's for me and a friend," you said as you took a sip of your drink. "I just heard something nice about it..."

He raised an inquiring brow.

"I've heard that if you made a thousand stars, you can make a wish. There's something I really want... And I know you- my- my- my friend! I mean, my friend... There's something my friend really wants, and I-I... I just thought she'd appreciate it," you told him, hiding your face.

Nikolai wondered why it took a while for him to notice how cute it was when you stuttered.

"I think it's stupid," he stated bluntly. The hurt look in your face made him regret his words instantly.

"You think so, huh... I guess it is. I just... It wouldn't hurt to try, you know, besides... I really need that wish."

Your last words kept him pondering for the rest of the afternoon. Just what on earth did you want so badly that you'd waste your time creating a thousand stars. To think you were even making another thousand just for a friend annoyed him. It annoyed him even more because he couldn't tell why he was annoyed.

"Whenever a lucky star is made, a falling star is saved," he heard you singing the other day at the garden. It suddenly became a routine of him to check up on you at the gardens after school. He did it as often as he followed around his sister. Sometimes he would drop by and have a coincidental meet-up with you, but most times he hid himself from you. He was content watching from afar. Watching as you filled up your bottle with stars every day. The day he had lunch with you was probably the first and the last time.

He noticed during the days it was raining you hung out in the library instead of the gardens, you'd read while you cut out papers to make more strips. He thought it would be the prefect time to speak with you again.

"Ah, Nikolai! It's been a while," you greeted. He wanted to think that you brightened up at the sight of him, just as he usually did when he spotted his sister. Speaking of his sister, he noticed she hadn't been avoiding him this past few days. Granted, he was being less creepy and stalker-y, but it was still odd for him.

He nodded at you in acknowledgment. There was a free seat right in front of you and just right beside you. He was about to pull out the chair in front of you from the table before pushing it back in and sitting beside you instead. "What are you reading?"

"Oh," you say. He could tell you were still trying to collect yourself, so he gave you that patience to do so. "It's... You'd think it's stupid, really. It's about the paper stars again."

"Prabačcie," he mumbled, feeling extremely guilty for the time he called what you did stupid.

"Sorry?"

"Yes."

"What does- oh, you're apologizing! It's fine! I mean... I guess it is kind of stupid when I think about it. Making a thousand stars for a wish..."

"No, it isn't. It is... very kind of you."

"You do?" You smiled. Suddenly, it seemed as if you shone. You shone so brightly it was almost blinding, but Nikolai couldn't help but bask in your warmth. "I've already made 1,534," you stated proudly, showing off the now full bottle and a jar already half full of stars.

"Teach me," Nikolai blurted out, surprising both you and himself.

"Oh... Uh, of course! I suppose there aren't any rules against asking someone to help you out. Should we begin now?"

He shook his head. "I only want to watch you."

You turned pink upon hearing that, and again he couldn't believe how it was only now that he realized how adorable you were. You could really give his sister a run for her money.

"I... I see... Why don't I tell you about what I've read then," you say. He noticed you kept your face down as you spoke. "You-you see... Aside from being able to make a wish after you've made a thousand of stars, there are other corresponding meanings to the number of paper stars that you make: one star means the only love," you handed him a red star you just finished making. "Two stars for the happy and compatible couple."

A couple... For a while, when he heard that word, Nikolai would imagine him and her sister, holding hands as they smiled together, but this time a new girl was starting to take for and replacing her sister's image. Weirdly enough, he didn't mind.

"Nine stars for a love for a long time."

Truly, he loved his sister for a long time. For him to suddenly fall for someone else... he never would have thought it possible. He was so determined to marry his sister then, but now... he wasn't so sure. What on earth happened to him? How did this even happen? Could it be that those luck star things actually worked?

"Fifty-five stars means love you with no regrets," you continued.

When did it happen? Surely it didn't happen during those days he took the time off stalking his sister and watching you instead. What was so special about you anyway? You were adorable to him, that he wouldn't deny, especially with the way you laughed, the way you scrunched up your brows when you were frustrated, the way you smiled, how determined you were, how passionate you could be-

"Ninety-nine stars for a love lasting forever."

I don't need that many stars to love you forever. He blushed. What on earth was he thinking?

"A hundred and one to tell them they're the one."

How could this be? You... During those times he watched you, how could he let his guard down so easily. Was that why you always shone in every room you were in? Was that why he found himself stalking his sister less and less? Was that why he couldn't get you out of his head? Was that-"

"Five hundred and twenty means-

I love you.

"Nikolai?" you looked at your companion worriedly, who was in turn looking awfully red. He stood up in panic, the force of it all making his chair fall over and catching the attention of other students. The librarian scolded him, and the others watched with with great interest the two characters - the nearly unnoticeable girl and the creepy knife-brandishing boy who wanted to marry his sister. He glared at them so they looked away.

"Darujcie," Nikolai excuse himself, leaving a befuddled you to stare at his back as he left the library.

Great, he thought, how was he going to face you tomorrow?

Tomorrow came sooner than Nikolai wanted to. He didn't get much sleep since he thought too much about you. How could this be? Just how could this be? Wasn't he supposed to be in love with his sister? He didn't know what he'd do, but he was sure he wasn't ever going to tell anyone. Not his sister, or his brother, and especially not you. If need be, he'd keep up this facade forever. But he knew he couldn't completely cut you out of his life all of a sudden; that would be too suspicious. Little by little, that was the way!

"Nikolai, I was wondering when you wanted me to teach you?" you suddenly popped up out of nowhere.

Should he say no? No... Not yet, it would be too suspicious. Besides, he was the one who asked to be taught.

"After class."

Nikolai both anxiously dreaded and excitedly awaited the meeting with you after class. For one thing, he was going to be with you. However, he was going to be with you. Being with you was a pro and a con.

When he met up with you at the gardens, at your usual spot near the flowers, he noticed that your jar was nearly full. He was impressed with how quick you were, but you did make those things every day. It was only normal you'd be a natural at this by now.

"Before we start, I want you to have this," you handed him the bottle you first filled up with stars. "I know I said it was for my friend, but it was really for you. I thought you needed it. I have to admit your relationship with your sister is kind of weird, but.. I've seen you following her around and you did kind of look lonely and it kinda looked like you sorta needed it, so I thought I'd give it to you as a gift. A thousand stars for a single wish. Use it wisely!"

Nikolai held the bottle in complete disbelief. It was as light as he expected it, but the amount of work in it - the time and determination... It made it too heavy for him to carry.

"So, let's get on with it, I guess," you say, seating down in front of Nikolai. He felt you tugging down on his shirt, so he sat down in front of you as well. He did his best to concentrate, to try and focus on your instructions instead of your lips. He tried to just keep on watching how your hands folded the paper instead of thinking how perfect his hands would be holding yours. He really tied his best, but he failed. He failed immensely.

As you two bid each other goodbye, he leaned down and kissed you by the cheek. Understandably, you ran away in panic, utterly embarrassed. He kept cursing at himself all the way home. He didn't have a good night's rest this day either. He figured he should just skip school to think of an explanation for his actions, but his damn brother pulled him out of bed and forced him to go to school. The close proximity with Anya no longer had any effect in making his mood better.

The whole day involved him just blatantly ignoring you. The roles have switched and it was now you following him around, desperate to get him alone, and he knew since he could always see you in the corner of his eye. He would have given anything to hang out with you, but he wasn't going to come to you until he was fully prepared for rejection.

"Nikolai!" you were sprinting towards him, and he ran as well. The both of you were determined with your own goals, and in the end you caught him... with the help of Anya, of course. He found himself cornered in a classroom with the only way out being blocked by his sister from the outside. Just great, he thought.

"Nikolai! Why... Why were you avoiding me?" It stung when he heard how much pain there was in your voice. "Please... Just let me say what I need to say, then you can ignore me again."

He nodded wordlessly, sitting down on a desk.

"At first, I wanted a wish... because I missed someone... His name was Spike. He was my pet dog. I... I made those stars because I wanted to wish him back... I felt so lonely... I cried most of the time... I know you're thinking it's so stupid to cry over a dog, but Spike... Spike was one of the few family members I had left, so I wanted to wish him back

"Sakura told me about this lucky stars. She told me if I made a thousand of them I'd get a wish. I thought it was silly too, but I told myself there was no harm in trying. Plus, it was a great distraction. Every day, I worked hard to create those stars, then you came. The first time I met you, my wish was still the same: I wanted Spike back... But after everything... I started thinking: I wish he liked me, I wished he gave up on her..."

Whoever he was, it definitely made Nikolai want to punch this person.

"I wanted to be the one he liked... I knew he had a reputation, namely for liking someone he shouldn't, but I knew there was more to him than that. I caught him one day, alone, and I thought that was such a familiar look... and it was familiar because he reminded me of me... I think that's really when I started to like him."

Nikolai frowned. "And who is he?"

You sighed in frustration. He didn't get why you'd be frustrated though. "It's you, Nikolai."

Oh.

Being the shy person he'd come to know you were, he didn't expect you'd be the one confessing, nor did he think you'd be the one to initiate the first kiss.

As for the whole one thousand stars thing, he stood by his opinion of them being stupid, but maybe... maybe there were times they weren't a complete sham.


	11. Merry Christmas!

What kind of Christmas would the countries have planned for you?

Germany

You two would plan on exchanging gifts on Christmas, and Ludwig would be nervous as hell. He'll end up worrying too much about his gift and wondering if he bought the wrong one or think it isn't enough. God, the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you on this special day. He worried so much about it he readied a bunch of back-up gifts just in case.

Now, he was a pretty stoic guy, but even you noticed how nervous he was, especially after spotting him pacing around in your bedroom and muttering to himself in German. There were only two gifts under your humble Christmas tree, but he was quite meticulous in the placement of your presents. He never really believed in Santa Claus also, but seeing you so excited for his arrival, he just had to bake cookies since you requested it. Of course he also baked some cake for the both of you, which was very delicious, if you may say so yourself.

When you finally exchanged presents, it turns out there was nothing to be worried about in the first place. You loved your gift and he loved yours (and you).

Japan

It would be a pretty quiet Christmas with Kiku, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be fun. The both of you would spend your time creating paper swans and using that to decorate your Christmas tree. He wasn't the type to go all out with gifts, but you could tell he truly put a lot of effort in it. As much as possible, he'd give you something he made himself, but for cards, oddly enough, he'd go out to the store to buy one for you. It would be an anime-themed card, though he would write a heartfelt message inside.

This was one of the few times he would abandon his issues with personal space and cuddle with you under the warmth of the kotatsu, albeit reluctantly. Being the shy guy that he is, he wouldn't have the courage to kiss you himself, but you were willing to take initiative. There were very long intervals between your kisses, but this was because the both of you would be blushing red the whole time.

The rest of the day you'd most likely spend reading manga and watching anime, but that was completely fine with you.

France

You'll wake up with smell of roses and mistletoes around your house. This guy will use every trick in the book just to make sure you walk under each and every mistletoe he placed around the house. The kisses would be short, but sweet. There are times it will get steamy, but you made sure he wouldn't take it too far.

He'll prepare this fancy feast and serve his finest wine. You know he went all out with this. For his gifts, he'll give you two: the first is a gorgeous red dress he'll want you to wear for your dates; and the second is a Santa costume, though it wasn't so much a costume as it was more of a lingerie type of thing.

He'll be taking you out to watch fireworks and visit the Eiffel Tower. You'll spend the whole day wandering around the country that it'll be almost midnight once you get home. There'd be another mistletoe greeting you at your doorstep, and of course you'd kiss, but this kiss would most likely lead to the bedroom.

America

You'll be having the most Christmasy Christmas Alfred. You'll be hanging stockings, setting up and decorating the Christmas tree, preparing cookies for Santa (which ended in failure, so you both settled for Christmas burgers and a glass of milk), and singing carols around the neighborhood.

Snowball fights. As soon as you go out, it will be an all-out war. Sure, it's Christmas, but that didn't mean he was going to go easy on you. Aside from that, snow angels! And lots of it! He's ridiculously good at making snowmen too, so expect an army of snowmen surrounding your house during Christmas.

You'll be exchanging presents as well, but he'll make it a point to wear his Santa costume. (He believes it adds on to the holiday spirit.) Fair warning: there will be fireworks. A lot of fireworks. Also, smores.

Canada

As soon as you wake up, the smell of pancakes will fill your nose. He'll enter your bedroom with a tray filled with a plate of pancakes and have you eat breakfast in bed. You'd take turns feeding each other (which you'd think was all a bit too cheesy, but cute nonetheless).

Ugly sweaters are a tradition for your Christmas. It started off with you losing a bet and being forced to wear an ugly sweater, but Matthew couldn't let you do it alone so he joined in on the fun until it pretty much became a norm to just wear the ugliest sweater during Christmas.

He'll take the time to teach you how to skate during these times! You'll usually slip and fall into his arms, but it wasn't like either of you minded.

For gifts, both of you decided to give each other handmade gifts instead of store-bought ones. It was cuter anyway.

Russia

You'll basically spend the whole day snuggling under a warm blanket near the fire. Ivan would have the Baltic trio do his bidding and shower you with gifts all day. It was ridiculous how much he bought for you! Clothes, food, books - you name it and he's probably got it for you.

Scavenger hunts for gifts would be held since you felt guilty just accepting the presents. You had to admit it was a challenging task (the trio were really good at hiding stuff), so at the very least you felt a little less guilty.

And lastly, sunflowers. All around the house are sunflowers. It was a cold time of the year, and Ivan really liked the warm color of sunflowers. You drew a picture of a sunflower as a gift once and that earned it the honor of being framed and hung on the wall. It worked well with the sunflower motif you had going on in the house.


	12. Stop and Smell the Roses (France x Reader)

"Honey, why don't you stop and smell the roses?" I heard my mother telling one of her friends once as I was dutifully working on my mudpies. I didn't understand what she meant by that; we had no gardens, much less flowers to be smelled, so I asked her. She laughed and told me I would understand once I'm older.

I remembered again as a teenager. I've looked it up and learned it was an idiomatic expression; it meant to relax. This discovery prompted me to inform my mother. I corrected her and told her it was flowers, not roses. She smiled that motherly smile all mothers wore when their children asked their questions. She told me nothing, but the assurance that I would understand once I'm older.

This time, I'm certainly much older, but I still don't think I fully understood what my mother meant. What other meaning could it have? Who knows. I didn't bother finding out anymore. The hustle and bustle of my daily life kept me busy.

One day, in my haste to arrive at work on time, I accidentally bumped into someone and fell upon impact. I looked up and I saw an angel. His head blocked the sun, but its rays appeared like a bright, blinding halo. His golden hair matched the radiance of the sun beautifully, and staring into his eyes I could see the skies trapped in his eyes.

He held out his hand for me to take, and I gratefully accepted. Standing up and dusting off the dirt from my clothes, I smiled at the kind stranger. I was given the pleasure of witnessing a handsome smile from this equally handsome stranger. He gifted me a rose for my troubles. A rose, a sweet smelling flower that reminded me of a bright spring day, of soothing nights and romantic dinners. It smelled refreshing, but not overpowering.

"Francis," he introduced himself. He was French and it appeared that his accent was as alluring as his looks and as charming as he was.

We exchanged numbers, goodbyes, and a promise of meeting again soon.

When he left, I finally understood what my mother meant.


	13. You Look Like... (America x Reader)

This is a continuation of What do I look like? [First Chapter]

The court was now empty of the loud spectators and players. The occupants of the bleachers were replaced by empty cups and wrappers, a few streamers of the opposing team's colors and a large white banner with the words "GO TEAM" painted black in a background of white, though the white was mostly dirtied with prints of shoe marks now following the team's loss. The few people remaining were Alfred who wanted to see the beautiful girl that was you, you who wanted to see the handsome hero Alfred, and the janitor who wanted two things: for those pesky kids to either help out or get lost; and for the whole mess the students made in the court to disappear. There were some students assigned to clean up, but most decided to ditch, which served as motivation for the few that remained to ditch as well. So, the burden of cleaning up fell on one person - the janitor.

The left side of the gym was significantly less messy, but messy nonetheless. Seated at the players' bench was you, and standing in front was Alfred, holding a basketball with the message "Wanna go on a date with me? Totally fine if you're not interested! But I'd want my ball back." written on it in cursive. He asked Matthew to write the message for him for his penmanship wasn't the most impressive. Another favor he asked was that Matthew roll the ball to your feet once he gave the signal. Unfortunately, he forgot the signal upon hearing you laugh, but even if he remembered it wouldn't be of much use since Matthew was dragged away by one of their teammates, thus making him unable to do his job.

Alfred was supposed to be with his teammates now. They would be celebrating their victory, but he needed to ask that girl — you — on a date before anyone else beat him to it. He noticed his teammates kept glancing at your general direction, and it took a few deals to make sure they wouldn't bother you. There was just something about you that he couldn't put to words. His mind is writing a blank, and the most that he could describe being with you was "magical". Was it the air surrounding you? Was it the enchanting sight of you? Was it your eyes that he got lost in if he stared too long? You were just... magic. Funnily enough, he never believed in magic. Arthur kept trying to convince him magic was real for so many times, but he never believed him. Alfred dismissed the tricks Arthur showed as simple parlor tricks. Seeing you, magic didn't seem all that unbelievable anymore.

"What do I look like?"

He didn't think you'd ask him that. He answered, a bit confused as to why you asked, but not as confused as he was when you started crying. "Dudette? Crap, I'm sorry! Did I say something wrong?" He threw the ball away and sat beside you, trying to make you feel better. "Would it help if you hit me? Do you want to hit me? Should I leave?" He was panicking. When you tried to talk, it seemed you were overwhelmed again by your emotions, causing you to break down in tears. The janitor was already giving him a disapproving look. It made him feel even more guilty when he kept thinking how beautiful you were even when you were crying.

"Alfred, we need to go back. The bus is going to leave with or without you." Matthew's quiet voice echoed in the gym. He was sporting his red varsity jacket that had his last name colored in red at the back of it. His slightly annoyed look turned into an accusatory one when he saw Alfred with the still crying you. "Alfred, what on earth did you do?"

"Dude, I didn't do anything! Honest!" Alfred stood abruptly, raised his right hand and with his left drew an x on his chest. "I mean... Maybe I said something stupid? I don't know!" Alfred turned to you. "(Y/N), I promise I didn't mean anything bad when I answered your question?"

Matthew narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Question?"

You hiccuped as you tried to calm yourself down. Matthew walked to you, a bit cautious and perhaps just a bit captivated as well. He offered you his handkerchief and a bottle of water. You took it, downing half of the water with three gulps. "No, I—I'm sorry. It's r-really not Alfred's fault. I was being st-stupid and silly. I guess—"

"You kids best get going if you're not going to clean up. I don't need useless brats hanging around here," the janitor said, glaring at the three of them.

Alfred escorted you out, holding onto you gently, as if you'd break if he wasn't careful. Matthew was by Alfred's left, whispering to him, scolding him and interrogating him about what happened. Alfred defended himself against Matthew's accusations, taking the time as well to question the Canadian why he didn't do his job a while back. Their whispers weren't even whispers, so you ended up hearing their whole back-and-forth.

You managed to laugh amidst your tears and hiccups. Their little squabble, though not intended, managed to make you feel better at least.

"(Y/N), I'm really sorry if I said anything wrong! I really am! Please accept this hero's apology!" Alfred says, now wondering if you were fine with him holding you.

"Oh no, Alfred, please don't apologize! I was just—" You didn't know how to continue that. You couldn't say you were really happy. How on earth would you be able to explain yourself? You couldn't simply tell him you were just extremely pleased with the fact that he described you. That would just raised more questions. "Er, really happy you asked me out. Yes, that's it. Just really happy by that."

Matthew looked at you oddly. Alfred, on the other hand, looked awfully pleased with himself. The both of them didn't think a date with Alfred was that great.

"Geez, I know I'm the hero and all, dudette, but I'm really not that so awesomely cool that you'd cry," said Alfred.

"Yes. He really isn't that great, miss," said Matthew, completely unimpressed by Alfred. Matthew didn't believe you cried for that reason. He knew a few people who'd be ecstatic to go out with the loud-mouthed, self-proclaimed hero, but he knew none of those people would just burst in tears if it happened. At least, he didn't think they would. He knew Alfred didn't do anything to purposely hurt you, but he had to admit Alfred could be careless with his words. The so-called hero may have accidentally said something rude by accident.

Matthew felt something vibrate in his pocket. He took out his phone and read the text he just received from their coach. "Alfred, they're going to leave. Now. Are you planning on joining us or..." Matthew trailed off.

"I'm good, dude. Hey, that rhymed!" Alfred grinned.

Your lips quirked upwards, infected by Alfred's cheery disposition.

"I'll be walking the dudette home, anyway. I think it's the least I can do for making her cry."

"Oh, Alfred, no! It wasn't your fault! Really! I'm just really all over the place today. And, er, I cry easily." You were losing your touch. Usually, you could expertly fabricate lies and excuses in an instant, but now that skill seemed to be nonexistent. "I don't want to impose. I mean, I've already troubled the both of you so much. Please, just go with them, Alfred. I can walk by myself. Maybe my friend's still here actually. So, really... you can just go."

Alfred placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be deeply wounded by your words. "Ouch. It's like you really don't want me around."

"Well..."

Immediately Alfred's expression turned into something similar to that of a wounded dog. "Oh, that's cool. I— at least let me see if your friend's still there to accompany you."

"Alfred, I was joking."

His bright smile returned once more. "Awesome! Then it's settled, the hero will be walking you home! Mattie, tell the coach I'll be walking home!"

Matthew sighed, nodding so. "Be safe, both of you." Matthew made a half-run, half-jog back outside to their bus.

You and Alfred were left alone at your nearly empty school's hallways. Students ambled by slowly, chatting with their friends while they stuffed their books inside their lockers. There was a teacher walking around, scolding a few freshman she'd pass by running around the hallways. You and Alfred were an inch's distance away from each other, both a bit too nervous to close the gap. Alfred was reluctant, especially since he still believed he was the reason you cried. He wasn't wrong though, but the explanation wasn't because of the reasons he thought.

Alfred wasn't a big fan of silence, whether they be awkward or comforting, he felt the need to always fill them. "(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like heroes?"

You raised a brow. "You mean like Thor and Superman? Those heroes?"

"Yep! Aren't they just really awesome?"

"I guess they are. I wouldn't mind being as cool as the Black Widow or something. Or maybe Hulking out like Banner!" You pocketed the handkerchief you were holding, now remembering that you should have given it back to Matthew.

"Their powers are awesome! But you see, it's not just the whole laser eyes and super strength that I find cool about them. They're like symbols of hope, too. I hate saying it, but this world can be a not-so-cool and awesome place, but having them around makes you know that there's still a light at the end of the tunnel! Even if they're not real, they're pretty awesome motivational figures."

You hummed happily in agreement. You never really thought about those fictional superheroes that way.

The sky was tinted orange already when you reached outside. The both of you hadn't even noticed how late it's been. You doubted your friend would still be around. Like you, she had an early curfew. Your parents allowed you enough freedom, but they were unfortunately very strict with your curfew, so it was a good thing your home was only a fifteen minute walk away from school.

"(Y/N), want some ice cream? My treat!" Alfred offered, his gaze on the convenience store around the corner.

You took his offer. Who were you to turn down ice cream anyway? You'll be sure to pay him back some other day. Even if ice cream wasn't that expensive, you didn't feel right letting him pay for it. Actually, you didn't feel right about a few other things as well. You didn't feel right making Alfred walk you home where he'd no doubt be subjected to an intense interrogation if he was spotted by any member of your family. You didn't feel right not letting anyone know about your little power to be beautiful. You didn't feel right lying about why you suddenly cried. It didn't help that you created such an unbelievable lie, too, not to mention partnering it up with one of your least impressive and most suspicious performances. How on earth did you even obtain such a power? It wasn't as if your parents were magical or were—

"Arthur!" Alfred called out. His voice broke your train of thought.

The convenience store was lined with shelves of food and drinks and bottle coolers at the back. The back of the counter was where the ice cream machine could be located. It was a small piece of machinery so there were only two flavors: vanilla and chocolate. The only person in line at the counter was a man with a slender build, messy, short blond hair and green eyes. One would be enchanted by those green eyes of his if they didn't get distracted by his very prominent and ridiculously bushy eyebrows. You couldn't help staring at it. Thankfully he didn't notice since Alfred was hounding on him.

Arthur looked very much eager to hit Alfred in the face. "Get off me, you bloody git!"

"Dude, I didn't see you at the game! I was totally awesome! I went wapish, then wapoosh! Those guys didn't even know what hit them! The hero totally overpowered everyone on the court! I was totally cool, wasn't I, (Y/N)?"

Alfred looked at you. Following Alfred's gaze, Arthur looked at you too. You couldn't tell what went on his mind when he suddenly blurted out, "You're beautiful" to you. The way he said it wasn't the same way people did when they gave you a compliment. Arthur told you that in a matter-of-fact tone. He kept a blank face, but clearly you could see he was curious about something.

Alfred, completely oblivious to that fact, thought Arthur was flirting with you. "Hey, dude, I already asked (Y/N) out," he whispered in Arthur's ear.

"What?" Arthur asked, suddenly returning to himself. "Oh. Alfred, you git, that's not what I meant. She's—" Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure how he should explain to Alfred what he just learned about you. You weren't just anyone ordinary. You had magic in you. Could you have drunk that? He shook his head. No, how would she have access to that. I can sense magic in her, but it's...

"I'm what?"

"Yeah, she's what?"

Arthur knew something you didn't. You didn't know why you believed it was related to your special little power.

Arthur clicked his tongue. "It's hard to explain. Alfred, you were going to borrow my notes, weren't you? Get them now. And I mean now. Bring her along with you, too." With that, the Brit left the store and waited for the both of you outside.

Alfred and you exchanged looks of concern and confusion. Even with the knowledge Arthur was waiting outside, Alfred still bought some ice cream for the both of you. He told you that Arthur was usually weird, but assured that even if Arthur was like that, he was usually harmless. The both of you still had time to kill, so you decided to come along Arthur's house since it was just the same way to your own home. In fact, you discovered that Arthur's house was just around your neighborhood. When you reached Arthur's house, a humble two-story house with a beautiful tranquil garden and a faint smell of burnt food, Alfred and you decided it was best to just wait outside. After five minutes, Arthur came back with a blue notebook and a bottle of water. He handed the notebook to Alfred, and to you the bottle of water.

"Oh, I wasn't thirsty—"

"Take it, love," he says with a sincere expression. He leaned close to you, whispering something in your ear, much to Alfred's distress.

Alfred didn't like it one bit that Arthur was, in his eyes, trying to steal you away from him. He really liked you, and he really liked the idea of you and him going on a date instead of you and Arthur.

"I think I figured it out. I'm not sure how, but you must have drunk a long-acting potion when you were young. It's hard to believe, but I know magic. And I know you have a little magic in you. If I'm not wrong, you consumed a beauteous spell. This is the cure, if you'll call it that. The effects are quick. A single sip and the magic will be gone. It's your choice if you'll drink it or not. Now, stay safe. That git's glaring at me too much already. Be patient with him," Arthur whispered. He bid the both of you goodbye and went back inside his house, closing the door behind him loudly.

You both made your way back to your house in silence, but your mind was anything but silent. Was Arthur telling the truth? How did he know about your predicament? Would he even lie about this? It wasn't like he had any reason to lie... And magic... Did magic really exist? Did you really have the cure in your hands?

You gripped tightly at the bottle in your hand. Do I even want this? You always believed it was such a hassle. This power of being beautiful in everyone's eyes. The compliments that weren't even for you, but the face that they saw. Somehow... Giving it all up was hard for you to do, after all. You wished for it, but now that your wish could be granted... you weren't so sure anymore.

"Alfred, I promise not to cry this time, but can I ask you what I look like again?"

Alfred didn't feel great being asked that again, but he did it anyway, albeit very hesitant. He was more careful with his words, but it was still the same as before. He described you.

You smiled, removed the cap of the bottle, and took a sip. It was a bitter liquid. You were glad you didn't drink too much of it. Again, you asked, "What do I look like?"

And again, Alfred provided the same description he did before.

You thought losing that kind of power wasn't so bad. You still had Alfred after all. It will take a lot of explaining tomorrow, but you can handle it. You had a date to look forward to anyway.

You ran back home, then running back to Alfred to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. You saw the faint blush on his face and a smile that went from ear to ear.

To him, you looked like the girl of his dreams.


	14. The Cat (Spain x Reader)

There it was again, you noted for the 16th time today as you stared at the Siamese cat that kept raiding the fridge at your brother's apartment. You gave a lengthy and weary sigh while the cat waved its long, slender tail in contentment as it found the fish inside the freezer. Sixteen times, you repeated, it had been sixteen times already that this cat somehow managed to trespass in your home. Don't get it wrong, you loved animals--cats, especially, but this cat is too much. It was a cute cat, you admitted, but cute was not enough for you to forgive it so easily.

You coughed to signify your presence. The cats wide ears twitched in response, slowly turning its head towards you. You could almost hear the cat sighing for being caught. Its disappointment was evident as it slowly inched away from the refrigerator; its tail no longer waving around happily. Great, you thought aloud, now you were starting to feel bad. Then again, the thought that the food had been protected was enough to relieve you of your guilt. Not that you should feel guilty about this; in all fairness, it was the cat's fault.

"No," you says, disagreeing with your thoughts. It was not the cat's fault, you told yourself. It was the damn owner--excuse the language.

"Hey," a new voice came--it was your brother's, James, also known as the owner of the apartment you were residing in. In truth, you preferred living with your parents, since your brother could be quite a slob, but the area was nearer to your school--walking distance, actually--that alone was enough to persuade you to live with your brother for the time being. Now, before you get any ideas, you did not hate your parents; they are lovely people! You just didn't want to bother with the one hour commute every day just to go to school.

And your brother, while you did call him a slob, was pretty much a slob for a reason. He was a workaholic, never stopping until he practically passed out in exhaustion. It didn't help that he was also a milquetoast who could never turn down any of his bosses' and coworkers' request when they asked him. He was a slob because he lacked the time and energy to clean up the place. So, you took up the role as your brother's personal maid to help out. It was a good thing that you could cook, too, otherwise, your brother would not just be a sleep-deprived man who lived in a place nearly identical to a garbage dump, but a starving, sleep-deprived man who lived in a place nearly identical to a garbage dump.

James had his brown hair in disarray, there was dried drool on the side of his mouth.You then noticed how his eye bags were darker and heavier than they were yesterday. You gave a worried look and reminded yourself to scold your brother later, right now though, there was that cat to worry about.

"It's here again," James says while yawning tiredly. He rubbed his eyes to try and wake himself up, but alas it proved to be futile.

"Yes, I'm going to return it," you say as you grabbed the cat, petting its triangular head to calm it. 

"Go ahead." James replied, taking a seat near the dinner table and resting his head atop for a quick nap. He had been used to the feline breaking inside their home for quite a while now. If he wasn't mistaken, the cat started doing this a few days after his sibling moved in, but he merely shrugged this off as a simple coincidence. It was not as if his sister attracted cats. "Actually, that could be possible," he murmured sleepily before dismissing it to completely return to his slumber. "But whatever."

You were now walking down the hallways, heading towards the apartment of this cat's owner. Room 320.

Everyday you made sure to check the cat for any signs of it being abused or harmed in any way, but always found nothing. And so, everyday, you concluded that the cat was merely a glutton which was why it always came to steal their food. That, and it had an irresponsible owner.

The owner, by the way, was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. A boy who was a year older than you, making him 19 years old. You had heard he moved due to 'personal reasons', but you didn't know the specifics of it and never really bothered to find out. He deserves his privacy, after all.

Finally, here you were. Room 320, with its green door and 'Welcome Home' sign in front. You took a deep breath before knocking at the door. A ritual you made to calm yourself.

The door opened and you were immediately greeted by the kind, apologetic smile of Antonio. You rolled your eyes having received this smile practically every single day since you've lived here.

You shoved the cat back at him, causing it to hiss angrily. "Please discipline your cat. I keep reminding you, but I don't think you even listen. Do you listen?"

Quickly, Antonio took the cat, but it jumped from his hold and left somewhere inside their apartment. "Lo siento-"

You did not let him finish. You had some pent up anger and frustration that you had to release, and Antonio was the poor soul to receive it. "Do you even feed that cat? Why is it always hungry?" You sighed for a second before continuing your lecture. "You shouldn't have kept a cat if it was too difficult for you. Pets are a huge responsibility. This should be common knowledge. You know what, here." You handed him a pamphlet. "I made it with my brother's laptop. Everything about caring for a cat is printed there. Read it. Memorize it. Apply it. Goodbye." You then left, leaving the boy a bit dumbfounded.

You sighed in relief; hope surging through you that this would be the last time you would need to return that cat.

Meanwhile, Antonio was smiling, a blush covering his sun-kissed face. He close the door and rested his back against it. "Oh, yeah," he suddenly recalled. He whistled for his cat to come and tossed him a treat. "Good job, boy. Do it again tomorrow, si?"

The cat nodded in joyful agreement. Hearing its master mutter 'next time, I'll do it,' reaffirmed it that it would be doing this for quite a long time before its master finally 'you' to go 'out' on this 'date' thing. It looked at its master's retreating figure and silently wished him 'good luck'.


	15. Dresses and Messes - Part 1 (2P! Romano x Reader)

The first time he saw you, you were wielding a pair of shears and threatening to stab his precious little brother Luciano while keeping a monotone voice and a blank expression. Both of them didn't take your threat seriously until you threw the pair of shears, grazed Luciano's cheek, then walked out of the house as if nothing happened. The pair of shears still stuck to the wall till this very day. Luciano never bothered to remove it, and whenever Flavio tried to take it off the wall himself his brother would growl at him.

To this day, he still had no idea why you were at Luciano's house or why you were threatening his brother. He thought that would be the first and last time he would see you, but boy was he wrong. A few weeks after that incident, the memory was nearly fresh out of Flavio's mind, until you suddenly appeared at his office-slash-design studio. Your hair was tied in two braids and you were donning a long, flowy, yellow sundress. You were examining one of the dresses he just finished for one of his clients - a mother whose daughter wanted a fabulous dress for her prom. (He usually didn't take those kinds of requests, but given that that mother was one of his bosses, then he definitely had to make an exception. In all honesty, he was reluctant to take up the job, but it ended up being one of the most fun he's had in one of his projects in a long time. Most clients were quite demanding, but with this dress the only instruction he was given was "blue and sequins - lots of them")

"It's beautiful," you said, turning to him and finally acknowledging his presence. There was a short pause before you spoke again, "but I think you went overboard with the sequins."

"They requested that," he answered in a tone that most would classify as haughty.

He saw you raise a brow. "I see." You then bowed respectfully. "I'm (Y/N). I've been told that starting today I will be working as your assistant, Signore Vargas," you continued, presenting to him a professional, obviously rehearsed smile.

This was the first he heard of this. Not once did he ever voice out the need for an assistant, nor did he display in his work that he needed one. He didn't look it, but he took his work very seriously despite the easygoing and nonchalant image he usually showed. He was proficient at his job and garnered enough experience and skill to be admired by people both famous and not. He never misses the deadline; actors, models, and other clients always specifically request him; he was just one of the best in the field. No offense to those with assistants though, but honestly, he can do fine - if not better - on his own. Plus, there was also the fact that you were the shear-brandishing woman who threatened his brother before.

"If you're thinking of sending me away, I'm afraid I will not be able to comply with that request. Please," you say, your words sounding even more monotone than before. It's like you weren't even trying. "I assure you I'm competent enough to work with you, Signore."

"Bella," he began.

"I do apologize for interrupting you, but I'd much prefer you address me with my name."

Flavio sighed. Perhaps it was time to work the Vargas charm on you. Work romances were frowned upon in the company, but it wasn't like he was actually trying to pursue you. Not to say that he wouldn't. If the circumstances were different (and if he didn't know about a certain incident from the past) then he would probably inviting you for coffee by now. Speaking of the past, how come you hadn't recognize him? I mean, who could forget such a handsome face like his, after all?

"If you truly don't want me around, then at least give me a week to work alongside you. Each request or demand, I'll successfully perform without fail. If you find my performance unsatisfactory, then I will leave immediately. Also, it's an absolute necessity that I be dismissed at three o'clock sharp."

Honestly, he thought, you weren't really in the position to be making such requests, but he admired your bravery and confidence, so might as well give you a chance. You really did seem passionate about this line of work. He did think you could stand to smile more often, but those were problems to worry about for another day.

A few days pass and true to your word, you accomplished every single task Flavio prepared for you. No matter how menial it was, you did it without complaint or question. You handled those tasks like you handled his flirting - coolly and mostly apathetic. You were quick and an absolute pro at multitasking. He was slowly being convinced to actually keep you at his side. Anyway, the only con to keeping you around was the frequent visits from the other designers and some models asking for your number and requesting your 'services'. He kept his cool with them when he shooed them off, but one of this days he was just going to burst. You were his... assistant, was what he meant, of course.

"Bella," he whined as soon as you returned with the cup of coffee he requested. He didn't even like coffee all that much; it was bitter no matter how much sugar he put in it and it always burned his tongue when he drank it. But, just to keep you away from the unceasing visits of his coworkers trying to snatch you away from him, he had to send you out to the nearby cafe. "Why are you so popular with everyone? Non possono vedere che sei mio?"

"I can't understand Italian, Signore."

He nearly tackled you in a hug and whined dramatically, rubbing his cheek against your head playfully.

"Signore, it would be troublesome for the both of us if we get caught like this. People might misunderstand our relationship."

Flavio waved off your concerns. "Let them think what they want to think, bella," he said. He honestly didn't care about what his colleagues thought, but the other reason he was doing this was due to the possibility that if they did get caught, then the others just might back off. Geez, what was with this possessive spike he'd recently been experiencing?

"Signore," you began as soon as you were released from his loving, albeit smothering, embrace. "I'm afraid I'll need to leave earlier than usual. There are important matters I need to attend to, but I have finished most of my work. My remaining tasks will take me no longer than half an hour to finish, so I will be done with everything today," you assured, giving a small bow before excusing yourself.

"Same as always, that bella ragazza," he says with a light shake of his head. He'd been wondering for a while why you specifically requested to leave at exactly three during your first meeting. He didn't think it was because of a part-time job, since your current pay was enough to sustain you, unless you were supporting not just yourself, which was a very likely case. He wanted to know why you always left at that time, why you threatened his brother then, why you really wanted to take on this job, and most importantly what were these 'important matters' that needed your attention now.

He realized that aside from those questions, he had other more basic questions that he never even thought of asking you before. The most he knew about you was your name. God, what kind of boss was he? Wasn't he at least supposed to know a few more things about his assistant. You probably knew too much about him given the fact that he usually blabbed about his life, both professional and personal, to you.

That's it.

He was going to learn more about you, but where should he even start?


	16. How adorable~ [Nyo! Belarus x Shy! Female! Reader]

Admittedly you had feelings for a certain country. Not not for America. Not for France either. What you really wanted was Belarus. Yes the male was always so clingy over his sister and yes you yourself was way too shy to even think about asking him but you knew that it just wouldn't work out between Belarus and Russia so you were hoping you could have a chance with the male.

You were in a bookstore. Nothing special right? The typical shy nerd in the bookstore, picking out books when you saw him. Your face flushed and you ducked behind some bookcases to hide your red face. What was he doing here? This wasn't good. Unfortunately, the nation saw you and made his way over with his usual smile and you tried to keep calm which was simply impossible.

"Hello [Name]," Belarus greeted with his accent as he smiled down at you. You blushed and stammered out a hello back. "W-What are you doing h-here, Belarus?" You question as your cheeks are still heated from embarrassment. "I have come to pick up something that sister Russia would like," Belarus speaks and you feel yourself deflate a bit upon hearing that. Of course, he was.

"But now that I see you here I have thought of something better," Belarus adds on and you look up at him in surprise. Something better than his sister? What on earth could that be? "I've decided to hang out with you instead," he grins and you blush at that. Why? He's never done that before. And when he sees you blush, his smile grows wider. "Excellent," Belarus says.

Before you can ask why he leans closer and kisses you making your arms drop the books and your legs to buckle as you hold onto the nation for support. You make-out for about 3 minutes and when you pull away, gasping, you see Belarus practically glowing from that kiss. "But I thought-I thought-" You sputter as you wipe your mouth in shock and disbelief. Did that really happen?

"I do like sister Russia but that wouldn't work out. I think I like you instead. You are much prettier," Belarus flirts and god you can barely breathe at that. "I-I-I...." You can't speak. You are speechless. "I like you too," you squeak out. "Good," Belarus grins as he kisses you again and you kiss back. "Because you are absolutely adorable and I'm not letting you go," Belarus chuckles as you walk out of the bookstore hand-in-hand.


End file.
